Time to hit hard!

Jiro Matsumoto found himself in a delicate predicament.

After Amamiya Maki repeatedly put him in his place, the way his father had fled after being beaten by Root at the Orphanage gates became a running joke whispered throughout the class.

At first, only a few students imitated his father's pathetic scramble behind his back, but things soon escalated.

Whenever he passed through the corridor, someone would lower their voice and say, just loudly enough for him to hear, "Seven punches in one second."

When he turned to glare at them, they immediately pretended to be chatting and laughing, giving nothing away.

He had gone to Teacher Ito to complain, only to be silenced by a single question: "Do you know who said it?"

He did not.

Even if he knew who had started it, he had no way to prove anything.

After all, "seven punches in one second" could be mockery, but it could just as easily be an ordinary observation about Taijutsu training. There was nothing he could pin on them.

On the third night after the monthly exam.

Jiro Matsumoto lay on the creaking wooden bed on the second floor of his family's general store, staring at the brown rain stains on the ceiling, and settled on a decision.

He could no longer provoke Amamiya Maki head-on.

But this was not surrender. It was a change of tactics.

Looking back on their previous clashes, he had lost miserably every time.

Last time, at the Orphanage gates, Root had nearly shut down his family's general store on charges of "disrespecting the Hokage."

Amamiya Maki had also left him speechless with his rebuttals, stripping him of all dignity.

During their classroom argument before that, one quip about his mouth being a septic tank had made him the class's laughingstock for three full days.

He did not even want to remember the earlier incidents.

He finally understood that Amamiya Maki was nothing like Minato Namikaze.

Minato Namikaze was gentle and modest. When faced with malice, he knew how to endure it, yield, and laugh it off.

But Amamiya Maki repaid every slight. His words were sharp, and if you dared provoke him, every sentence struck precisely at your weak points, as though he knew everything about you.

Confronting him directly was nothing but asking for trouble.

This time, he would fight differently.

Rather than confronting him head-on, he would undermine him from the sidelines.

The Ninja Academy had always been a breeding ground for rumors. Negative rumors that smeared geniuses spread faster than anyone could imagine.

In Konoha, the safest, most effective way to destroy a genius had never been to defeat them openly. It was to destroy their reputation.

Make everyone question his talent, believe he did not deserve his reputation, and conclude that his excellence came from dishonest shortcuts and cheating.

Konoha's ordinary people never cared about evidence. All they needed was an explanation that sounded reasonable and suited their own interests, and they would convince themselves the rumors were true.

The next morning, during a break between classes, Jiro Matsumoto found his first target for spreading the rumor.

Takeshita was leaning by the window, gnawing on a hard, dry piece of bread. Seeing Jiro Matsumoto approach, Takeshita instinctively stepped back half a pace, wary.

Jiro Matsumoto paid no mind to that retreat. Deliberately lowering his voice, he adopted the air of someone indignant on everyone's behalf and began slowly.

"Don't you think Amamiya Maki's results are far too suspicious?

"He spent all those years at the Orphanage without even mastering the most basic chakra extraction. I saw that with my own eyes."

"But the moment he entered the Ninja Academy, he suddenly became a once-in-a-generation genius."

"He easily took first place in the monthly exam, mastered the entire Clone Technique set in one go, and even drew the Third Hokage to the school to praise him personally."

"When everything is too convenient, that's the biggest giveaway. How could some useless kid from the Orphanage suddenly wise up overnight and become a completely different person? He must have used some shady method."

Takeshita abruptly stopped chewing, eyes widening in disbelief, a few breadcrumbs still clinging to the corners of the mouth.

"But Nonō said he's always been amazing."

"Nonō came from the same Orphanage as him. Of course she'd defend him at every turn."

Jiro Matsumoto raised a hand and patted Takeshita's shoulder, his tone certain and deeply persuasive.

"Even Nonō's Medical Ninjutsu lessons are opportunities Amamiya Maki secured for her. How could she possibly say anything bad about him?"

"Calm down and really think about it. How could an orphan who couldn't even perform basic chakra extraction turn things around and crush every genius in our class in just a few weeks?"

"When something's that strange, there has to be something behind it. His strength definitely didn't come honestly."

Jiro Matsumoto did not know the details of Amamiya Maki's circumstances, but spreading lies cost nothing.

Takeshita fell into a long silence.

Jiro Matsumoto's words, "some shady method," kept echoing in Takeshita's mind. The more Takeshita considered them, the more plausible they seemed, and the more suspicious everything became.

Throughout the morning, Jiro Matsumoto kept refining his story and repeating the same approach.

He sought out Hirano and several other classmates one by one, adjusting his words to suit each person's mindset.

With Takeshita, he emphasized how useless Amamiya Maki used to be.

With Hirano, he deliberately highlighted the strangeness of his overnight rise.

With the others, he focused on the unfairness of this "comeback through cheating."

But the core of his story never changed.

Amamiya Maki's results were fake, his talent was fake, and every dazzling accomplishment had been gained through dishonest shortcuts.

A useless orphan could never join the ranks of geniuses through his own hard work. He must have resorted to underhanded methods.

He never explained exactly what those methods were. He simply planted seeds of doubt.

He knew perfectly well that he needed neither evidence nor solid proof.

Those seeds of suspicion would take root and sprout on their own.

Because they fit perfectly with the most deeply ingrained beliefs and jealousies of Konoha's ordinary people.

Rumors never needed evidence, only a believable excuse.

By the approach of afternoon, the seeds of suspicion had fully sprouted.

The instant Amamiya Maki entered the classroom, he keenly sensed something was wrong.

Several classmates by the window hastily averted their eyes. It was not polite avoidance, but the evasiveness of guilty consciences.

Whenever their gazes briefly met his, they looked away as quickly as though they had been burned.

He set down his bag and took his seat by the wall, discreetly sweeping his peripheral vision across the back of the classroom.

The entire classroom was eerily quiet.

No one approached him, and no one displayed open hostility, yet distance and wariness filled every corner.

The classmates who usually crowded around to ask questions and borrow his notes had all vanished, leaving the space around him dead and stifling.

During the lunch break, Nonō dragged him into a corner at the end of the corridor.

She bit her lower lip and remained silent for several seconds. Finally unable to contain her anger and worry, she quietly told him everything.

Her voice was extremely low. Her clenched fists and reddened ears all betrayed the emotions she had been holding back for so long.

"It's Jiro Matsumoto."

"He's been spreading rumors about you everywhere since yesterday afternoon."

"He says you copied throughout the theory exam, that you only performed the Clone Technique set in class because you'd peeked at the lesson plans beforehand, and that you couldn't even extract chakra before, so your sudden strength must have come from some dishonest, underhanded method."

She paused, her expression hesitant, but eventually repeated the last, grating fragment of the rumor.

"Some shady method."

Amamiya Maki leaned against the wall, his expression perfectly calm, as though he had expected all of this.

He spoke lightly, his tone as casual as if he were recounting some trivial matter.

"Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?!" Nonō's emotions surged, her voice rising abruptly, her eyes full of frustration.

"They insist you cheated, stole lessons, and took dishonest shortcuts!"

"I did everything I could to defend you. I told everyone you've always been talented and your abilities are real, but not a single person believed me!"

"They said I'm your accomplice, that I've been helping you fake everything ever since we were at the Orphanage!"

Her eyes reddened, and she stubbornly bit down on her lip, refusing to let a single tear fall.

Her hands were clenched into fists, her nails digging deep into her palms, revealing her intense anger and hurt.

Amamiya Maki watched her quietly, then reached out and gently loosened her clenched fists, his movements soft and without any force.

"You did nothing wrong."

Nonō looked up at him, her reddened eyes filled with confusion.

"What do you mean, nothing wrong?"

"They don't disbelieve you because you're lying. They disbelieve you because they don't want to believe."

Amamiya Maki gently lowered her hands, his tone clear and calm.

"You could defend me a thousand times, ten thousand times, and all they need to say is, 'An accomplice covering for him,' to dismiss every word."

"This was never your fault. They only want to believe the truth they've imagined."

"Then what are you going to do?" Nonō stared intently at him.

Amamiya Maki did not answer directly.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall, looking past Nonō toward the half-open window at the end of the corridor.

The setting sun streamed through it, carving a bright square of light onto the floor.

Several younger students chased one another and played, their clear laughter echoing through the empty corridor.

He was silent for a moment before speaking slowly. His tone remained mild, but carried an unquestionable certainty.

"Jiro Matsumoto really has gotten smarter this time."

"The most powerful thing about rumors is that they don't need evidence. They only need to sound plausible."

"I'm an orphan. I was unremarkable in my early years, then suddenly rose after enrolling, placed first in the monthly exam, mastered the Clone Technique set, and received praise from the Hokage."

"String those real facts together, and they're already enough to invite suspicion."

"That isn't Jiro Matsumoto's brilliance. It's the way things are in Konoha."

"You've spent six years in Konoha. You should have understood its rules long ago."

"No one criticizes mediocrity, but the strong are always maligned."

"Especially an orphan with no one to rely on. No family backing, no inherited gifts, no secret techniques passed down. Suddenly becoming strong is a crime in itself."

"Everyone instinctively assumes that an orphan's excellence must have come dishonestly."

"It isn't them demanding I prove my innocence. It's the deep-rooted prejudice among Konoha's ordinary people forcing me to produce evidence."

"And I will prove it."

He lifted his eyes, a cold, sharp glint flashing through them.

"But I won't prove it to Jiro Matsumoto, and I certainly won't explain myself to people who blindly follow rumors."

"It's time to hit these troublemakers hard!"

With that, he straightened, slung on his bag, and turned to walk toward the classroom.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long and slender, yet it carried an unwavering determination to press forward.

Nonō remained where she stood, watching his retreating figure as a memory suddenly surfaced in her mind.

He was just like the crow whose wing Amamiya Maki had healed all those years ago. Upon regaining its freedom, it had not hurried away. Instead, it had stood quietly, preening every feather before beating its wings, cutting through the air, and soaring straight into the sky.

He had endured and gathered his strength. Once the dust settled, he would astonish them all.

Tomorrow would be the day he turned the tables and cleared his name.